


things i shouldn't say

by tazernkaner



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, drunk jonny does stupid things, jonny is just kind of stupid in general and doesnt know how to communicate feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 20:41:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8462248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tazernkaner/pseuds/tazernkaner
Summary: Eventually he thinks fuck it and presses send.          He sits there in the silence, glossy eyes focused on the wall as he taps his foot nervously on the hardwood.           He's an idiot, but what's done is done now and he can't take it back. It's almost comforting in a way, despite the terror that is crawling it's way up his throat. At least now he's done it - if he fucked everything up, well. At least he can stop constantly thinking about doing it and try and go back to some sort of normal.





	

_ I don't know if I ever mentioned this, but I was kind of in love with you before.  _

 

         Jonny stares down at the message he's had written for nearly an hour - he wrote it four beers ago, he probably wouldn't even be able to spell the words correctly at this point. 

 

         Eventually, he thinks  _ fuck it  _ and presses send. 

 

         He sits there in the silence; glossy eyes focused on the wall as he taps his foot nervously on the hardwood. 

 

         He's an idiot, but what's done is done now, and he can't take it back. It's almost comforting in a way, despite the terror that is crawling its way up his throat. At least now he's done it - if he fucked everything up, well. At least he can stop constantly thinking about doing it and try and go back to some form of normal.

 

         He doesn't expect a reply because it's nearly three in the morning. So he shuts off his phone and heads towards his bedroom with the hopes that he's consumed enough alcohol to put him to sleep. 

 

*** 

 

He's reminded of his fleeting youth the next morning when he wakes up. He didn’t even drink as much as he used too, but he can feel the aches of every drop coursing through his body. 

 

         He's been thinking about getting older a lot, lately. About how he's not twenty-two anymore, how eventually hockey is going to come to an end. He's been thinking about what else he wants in life; it's the same as what he wanted when he was twenty-two. Now it just feels like the time to go after it. 

 

         He lays on his back for a while, counting the ticks coming from the clock on his wall. 

 

         Jonny knows he should turn on his phone and be a man and see what sort of reply he gets. He leans over to grab his phone, impatiently sighing as the little Apple appears on his screen. 

 

         He's got no one new message from Patrick, as he expected. The message itself though is... Not what he expected. 

 

_ Wanna grab lunch??  _

 

         He scrolls back up a little further, to the message he had sent. There's a little red exclamation point next to it that says “message not delivered.” 

 

         He must have turned his phone off before it got the chance to send. 

 

_ Lunch sounds good _ , he sends back and tries to swallow down any urge to say more. 

 

***

 

_ I miss you _ . 

 

         Jonny’s not even drunk this time, and he sends the text message right away, without pondering over it for an hour. It isn't as explicit as the last one, but he thinks it still gets his point across. 

 

         The reply is nearly instantaneous .  _ You saw me two hours ago _

 

         Jonny nibbles down on his bottom lip and thinks about how to get what he's feeling into words. He misses the days when they were attached to one another, at the rink and then in their shared hotel room. He misses the way things used to be, and he doesn't know the words to say to bring it back. 

 

         When he hasn't replied to Patrick for twenty minutes, he gets another text from him.  _ I miss you too _ . 

 

         But Jonny doesn't know how he means it, and he doesn't know how to ask. 

 

*** 

 

_ This is going to sound stupid... _

 

         Jonny sends the first message and begins to type the next. 

 

_ You could-  _

 

         What is he doing? He backspaces the letters and types instead  _ you know what, nevermind. _

 

         It's a few minutes before Patrick sends back  _ what's going on? _

 

_ You're still my emergency contact. Isn't that funny? I keep forgetting to change it.  _

 

__ It's so stupid; he knows that. But he  _ did  _ say it was going to sound stupid. Granted it wasn't the message he originally planned to say but it was stupid nonetheless. 

 

_ You're still mine, too _ . 

 

***

 

_ I almost bought a plane ticket today. To come see you.  _

 

         The offseason is always weird, strangely calm after the chaos that is playoff hockey. 

 

          Somehow he had managed to push away any of these feelings to concrete on the playoffs. Patrick had sometimes given him a funny look or two, but other than that, there has been no indication that anything was different. 

 

         It's been nearly a month since they got knocked out of the first round. It had been a tough blow to accept, especially after last year. 

 

_ Why didn't you? _ Patrick returns. 

 

         Jonny still doesn't know what Patrick wants. He knows what he wants, but he doesn't want to ask for too much. 

 

_ I'm not saying I want to get back together, but if you meet me halfway, we could fuck at a hotel or something. _

 

_           I'm not going to fucking Detroit _ Patrick sends back, and fair enough. 

 

         So maybe he has his answer now. After months of wondering, he knows. Patrick doesn't want him like Jonny does and that's... Okay. It is. Jonny can forget about it and be friends. 

 

         It's been nearly seven years; he should be over it by now. Patrick clearly is. 

 

*** 

 

“Oui, Maman,” Jonny answers into the phone he's holding between his shoulder and ear. “Ce soir, bien, oui. Je serai là.” 

 

           His mother had been asking him to come by for days, but he had needed the past few to get drunk and get over Patrick. He hadn’t sent him one text, choosing to respect Patrick's wishes. 

 

          He's about to ask his mother what to bring to supper when there's a knock on the door - actually it's more like a pounding. 

 

          “Uh, I gotta go... I’ll call you back.” 

 

         He isn't expecting it to be Patrick at the door... But when he opens it and sees him, red faced and messy curls, he's not surprised. Like somehow he just  _ knew _ . 

 

         “Um. Hi...” Jonny says through heavy breaths, feeling like he's suddenly run a marathon. 

 

          “I'm sick of the text messages, Jonny. If you've got something to say to me  _ fucking say it _ .” 

 

          “I...” Jonny starts dumbly. He had always thought of himself as a pretty smart guy, but Patrick seems to be proving the opposite lately. 

 

          “You miss me, you almost bought a plane ticket to come see me, you want me to fly across the country to  _ fuck me _ ? What does anything of this mean Jonny? I’m sick of the games. You want something, fucking  _ say it _ .” 

 

          Jonny has thought about what he would say a hundred times over, if ever given the opportunity. But now - with Patrick standing in front of him, eyes blazing a murderous color of blue... he’s got nothing.

 

          All he can think about it kissing him, licking into his mouth and tasting what used to be his. To feel the weight of Patrick’s tongue, and the feeling of home that he used to get when he kissed him.

 

          “I bought a plane ticket, Jonny. I  _ did  _ it, so now it’s your turn. What do you want?”

 

          “You,” Jonny breathes. “Fuck I just want you back, I’ve never stopped wanting you. And I never told you - back then, that I loved you, but I did.” 

 

          Patrick takes a step closer and tilts his head to look up at Jonny. “You always said we were buddies, back then, that nothing had to change - that we could hook and still be us... I didn’t know you ever felt more.”

 

          “I’m sorry,” Jonny murmurs, letting out a sigh that fans over Patrick’s face. “I didn’t want things to change - I wanted it to be us, but like, more. I should have been more clear, told you what I wanted.”

 

          “So tell me now, then. Tell me what the last few months have been about then.” 

 

         “I love you, and we’re not getting any younger, you know? I think I started to realize that - and started thinking about what I want after hockey, and then I was thinking about how weird the offseason feels, not seeing you... And I don’t want that to be my future. I want my future to be with you, and I knew that I had to tell you, but I didn’t want to ruin things.”

 

          “I love you too,” Patrick whispers before throwing his arms around Jonny’s neck and pulling him downwards. “I always did,” he adds before brushing their lips together so softly. 

 

         Jonny remembers every detail about kissing Patrick, even if he hadn’t since he was twenty-two.

 

          “Let’s spend the offseason together, okay? This one and all of them,” Patrick says when he pulls back, eyes shining with emotion that makes Jonny’s chest clench. 

 

          “I need to call my mom,” Jonny says suddenly. 

 

          Patrick frowns. “Right now?”

  
          “Yeah... I need to tell her I won’t be coming for supper.” 


End file.
